Bragging early, even if it's the truth, is a real turn-off in a Novel.
my outfit has accomplished every mission; not a yard of ground given back once we pushed inland.
If you want this to be a historical non fiction story and you feel compelled to start you novel that way, then I suggest you tell the full story of "no mission is accomplished without some losses".
so, you might simply say something like "Even though we accomplished our missions, we took losses (briefly explain those losses) and it wore down our troops" - or something like that.
Writing a novel in first person is the most difficult thing to do. Once you mix tenses the story losses its validity.
I think your story is very intersting. But unless you are a highly skilled author, it will become a literary mess.
A good start and then you started using the CAPS and it distracted me.
enough, I glimpsed my oldest kids apparently having a late night party. I glared down the hall. E N O U GH! PARTY’S OVER!
OH, s***, I THOUGHT YOU WERE BLOCKING, ALEX!
I THOUGHT YOU WERE!
T H E P A R T Y I S O V E R! I mentally shouted at them, sitting up.
After the shock, I found that you some good scenes in your story.
However, i suggest you drop the caps, and then read this story aloud, and you will see the good believable parts and then notice the parts that are not communicating with the reader (or listener)
Good opening - it draws the reader into the story:
Daniella was notorious for procrastinating but this time she had taken it too far. She’d had months to plan this escape and yet she had not. Twenty-four hours was all she now had to escape this stronghold.
4 foot deep snow -- not realistic -- you couldn't even run in that snow.
I suggest you change it to "deep snow"
Why hadn’t she taken it. -- never ask the reader a question - not even a rhetorical question -- Why? It stops the flow of the story. The reader fixates on the question and starts plugging in his or her own reasons.
Review part of my story -- and I will come back and review more of yours.
seven-foot height ---seven foot just took me out of the story - if you want him to be that tall don't give away the goodies in the opening -- just say tall -- That's my opinion anyway --- but it is backed-up by novel experts; they call it reving your engine too early in a novel.
Good imagery here == Yet there his clone sat, still as a statue, his eyes hidden beneath a bowler hat—a hat Leonard owned.
He handed one to his clone, who ducked his head through the door. The clone flinched and shook his head. “S-Sorry, smoking can kill you. Where I live, we had an epidemic. Let's just say, I don't want to do that again.” --- good scene
I had rated your work a 3.5, but that scene raised my opinion to a 4.0 == good show
Okay. I read everything and I think you have a good imagination. So I am inviting you to review the first few chapters of my novel "Ancestors of God"
However, you have revved your engine too much with the opening paragrap.
I made the same mistake on my novel in the beginning.
Your huge first paragraph was so well written that it overwhelmed the reader - in my opinion -- well in some research I have done on the web as to how not to write a novel - about 5 publishers signed on to one how to book "39 fatal mistakes made in writing a novel" -- or some title like that.
Well, you are a better writer than I am, so maybe I shouldn't say anything.
If you would like I will offer you a way to save all the great writing in the first paragraph but not overwhelm the reader.
You are such a good writer, I would love for you to review the first few chapters of my novel "Ancestors of God"
Good subject matter.
Maslow's studies were not limited to what you listed as the bare minimums. You forgot to mention an sense of belonging, and self actualization.
Anyway, try waking up one morning an telling yourself that you will be happy - just by tryying to convince yourself, like Abe Lincoln suggested.
Your id and ego will not let you do that unless your are doped-up; either by drugs or my some religious La La Land phenomenon.
My dad said it best (IMHO) - To be happy simply help the underprivileged people by donting time to a charitable organization -- and be glad that you are not them. --- In short: Appreciate your lot in life.
It was slow and not that enticing at the beginning. -- I think you have the potential to really suck in the reader -- so rewrite it and "do it" - I suggest.
Here is where you poem became pure gold:
“Beg pardon, kind sir, I’m a shameful cur
for surely I ne’er did think.
Unlike thine Ancient Mariner,
I’ve ‘ad many a drop to drink.”
“Poe postures a point to which I agree,
for shame to them, and shame on them;
purveyors of blasphemy.
We never do cuss, need never to cuss,
only virtuous verse for thee.”
“He’s right!” shouts Hammond.
“He’s wrong!” spouts Bacon—
the duo divided but closely related in gist.
“Aye,” says Hammond. “We've labored for ages redlining poor pages
of aspiring Quill poets in classes.”
Great workmanship
. A winner indeed,
except for the beginning
where you faiied to feed,
However, I suggest you find a way to break it into shorter paragraphs.
This paragraph was so long that my eyes began to blur.
Gabriel sensed movement within the bush. It began to shudder and shake as the enraged Slithadon moved into view. The creature itself was born of "nightmare"; the head of a dragon, the fluid grace of a snake of insane proportions and the colour of midnight black. Light seemed to be absorbed rather than reflected from it. In one sinuous movement, it raised itself erect. Balanced two meters above the ground, its horned head moved with deadly grace from side to side. Its tongue flickered, as sensors worked to pinpoint the source of its annoyance. Gabriel waited with studied patience for the perfect moment to take up the slack on the trigger and slowly close the contact. The Slithadon froze and Gabriel felt the weight of its gaze centred upon him. Now was the time. A blast of red pulsating energy erupted and entered the creature's mouth as it started its downward strike. A red nimbus of energy erupted around its head, causing the eyes to flame and glow eerily. A frenzy of movement and a high-pitched scream pierced the air as its death throes tossed it from side to side. "A clean kill," Gabriel thought to himself. He moved towards the trembler and flicked it off. Laying down his weapon, he drew his knife so as to strip the creature of its valuable skin.
She staggered over to the home medical unit and attached the tube. Like an I.V., it was directly hooked up to the blood stream in the brachial artery, and could be accessed through a sealed panel. The touch screen panel was no larger than an inch in diameter and barely rose a quarter of an inch from the skin. The scar it left was well worth avoiding hospitals
The only thing I can find wrong with your story is that it overwhelms me. -- which would be good if I was sober.
With your imagination, I would love for you input about my novel "Ancestors of God"
However, I have studied the Bible in both Hebrew and Greek. The average church Christian who reads the English translation of the Bible has no idea of "God's" truth.
So plugging in "God's Truth" into your poem distracted it for me. People have used misquotes in the Bible for years to discriminate against Blacks, homosexuals, and women.
To stand for truth
God’s truth
Good energy during that Poem - I enjoyed the enthusiasm.
Well written and it reminds me of my family. When Mama Vaught died, Uncle Dub bought the family farm, and paid all his brothers and sisters their share.
This part I liked a lot - it was realistic:
His hands gripped the leather and then he winced at the pain. He was starting to get arthritis. As a doctor he saw the signs. His knuckles were swelling and a couple of his fingers would not bend anymore. His doctoring days were over. He sighed.
Barton tugged on the reins and the mare shook her head, anxious to get moving faster than just a walk.
This part was completely unrealistic as I read it and my wife read it while looking over my shoulder:
“Are so.”
“Are not.”
You are stuck here, my friend. You can choose proper grammar, or you can choose the reality of how children use those expressions.
Coming from a big family and exposed to hundreds of children arguing, the terms are: "Is so." "Is not." --- regardless of the subject.
Please review my novel "Ancestors of God". I would appreciate it if you find something wrong with it and let me know.
That is one sad story. I had forgotten that most states hold the driver responsible for the death of a passenger. He was punished in his heart of course, but accidents like that are usually called manslaughter and not murder. And I was thinking "Why wasn't he out on bail -- I guess they don't give bail for 2nd or third offences in some states.
It was a good story - It made me want to research the legal penalties of DWI or some states call it DUI.
I was in Fort Worth Texas when that was filmed (for the Movie "Logan's Run") at the city water gardens. I regularly ate my sack lunch there. They corded off the area and filmed it - or a least some of the background there.
I am new here, and I don't knw how this works. Am I suppose to review your synopsis of Logan's Run. Or am I suppose to enter the contest or not.
Well you covered the story pretty well - I guess -- cause I didn't read the book, I just saw the movie.
This was awesome, indeed. It was like poetry. I bet you could write the following in the form of a free verse poem, and win a poetry contest.
Green sparks fell in man-sized cascades and from their depths they came: tall and short, old and young, they were followers of the wicked one. Security teams were cut down by forces, until that day unseen, but by those in fairy tales and epic fantasies. The screams hit a crescendo, a symphony of pain, but Marcus ignored the suffering and made to move again. He faded from view in a shower of sparks and in the White House appeared, he stood beside the entourage, and there secured their fear.
The above could pass for poetry
and this below could be the added punch,
Not a word was spoken; no time did he give, as the heads of all but the President slid, and onto the floor in a cadence tap was the masquerade unwrapped. A folder secured and the President plead, knowing his penchant for mercy, and by those ends a great defeat, an end he’ll never meet. Howling in agony and body aflame was the President trapped for eternity – to remind Mankind, and those opposed, that the mind is a dangerously powerful thing.
Good Job
I will read the rest later, but for now I just wanted to stop and say, "Wow."
My wall is not a physical wall, but its purpose is the same. My wall is psychological, comprised mainly from experiences, both good and bad. It's main function is to defend--to keep things out which would hurt. Unfortunately, for me, hurt has come from people and as such, they are not permitted within my refuge.
I kept yelling to you during that stage of your life, "Build a bridge."
I was really getting into your story and then I ran into the above expression, and said, 'oh no. not another author trying impress the reader with unrealistic terminology."
You are a great story teller. Why do you use terms that you know are not realistic.
I will still give you a high rating because you have talent. So don't let pseudo intellectuals affect your use of terms.
Pretty good ending. An above average story I would say.
This was my favorite part:
As the floor began to lower once again a voice came over an intercom, “Sorry, but that’s confidential information even for you Dr. Roth. As you know, we take our work here very seriously and we can’t let the virus that Dr. Drexel now has living inside her loose just yet. You two have simply completed the puzzle. Now, I suggest you get on the ground, shut the fuck up, and pray that I end your lives before the real suffering begins.”
I didn't understand this part, but I liked it:
You two have simply completed the puzzle. Now, I suggest you get on the ground, shut the fuck up, and pray that I end your lives before the real suffering begins.”
But not this elm, whose branches even now appear a parody of youth grown weary. Its limbs shed strips like old snakeskin, no longer needed. Yet flickers make their nests in rotting holes. It serves some purpose still.
swarthiness I know it was a quote from a famous book. - but it still strikes me as an inside term used between authors and publisher - in their hope that they can 'upmanship' someone.
I liked this scene:
‘You wotcher, Jack Merridew,’ Roger threatened hotly in his ear. ‘I’ll box your ears right proper, ‘cause I’m brassed off with the way you fanny about like you own the place.’ Roger lifted the edge of the knife with a tilt of his wrist, forcing Jack to stand on his tip-toes to avoid cutting himself. ‘I may not be “King of the Hill”, but I had you fagging for me back at school, and you know what I do to blokes who get too big for their britches. Don’t you, Jackie?’
Good writing.
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